The Half Angel's Blood
by Whitehorse102
Summary: An assassination attempt gone so horribly wrong, for both parties. The legend about a Angel's blood reviving a Demon...


**The Devil is a Part Timer has left me with alot of "eh" feelings. Honestly speaking, I enjoyed the few light novels I could get my hands on more then the anime, as to me the anime seemed to put humor before anything else. That can be really detrimental to a show, you know? I don't know what I'm saying. But anyways, I'm asking for alot of leeway here.** ** _Pretending_** **that after the anime's two arcs, everyone returned to Enta Isla and** ** _pretending_** **that Emilia still has bad blood and** ** _pretending_** **that Alas Ramus doesn't exist(although I wish I had known about her adorable little existence before I had started this fanfiction), then maybe possibly this could happen? Oh, also** ** _pretending_** **that this is a confirmed theory that happened in the anime or light novel or SOMEWHERE IN THE DEVIL IS A PART TIMER UNIVERSE. Ugh. So much for a good first impression. Continuation? Perhaps. I do have a small idea lingering in the back of my mind, but I think I'll only really implore it if I get asked enough. Enjoy the bits of angst and excuse all grammar errors, as this was written at 4 am. Remember, Review!**

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"Why would you….?" His voice failed him. He hadn't realized he was speaking English.

Emilia knelt in front of him, pressing her hand over his mouth. Her armor clinked for a moment before she lowered herself down, spreading her armor the best she could.

Outside the crumbling windows, Satan saw three dark shapes zoom by in the starry night sky. One hovered for a moment, but then continued onwards.

Emilia sighed in relief and removed her hand from the Dark Lord's mouth. She studied him up and down. "I'm not sure why either." She admitted.

Satan sighed and sunk down farther against the wall she had placed him against. His cape tugged at his throat-he almost wanted it off. If not for the fact that it had saved his throat from being slit earlier, that was. "I thought you were the one leading this attack." He croaked.

"I was." She flinched. "I _am_."

"Then why…" He trailed off again as a harsh wave of pain flowed through his body. He didn't think it would be possible for him to feel such hurt while in his demon form. In his old human form, certainly. Not like this, however. He looked to his left, his throat chafing against his cloak, His wing was smoking and scarred, the tissue ripped in multiple places. He tried to ignore the pain and looked back at the Hero, her gleaming white hair dulled from where she had rubbed rubble across it so it wouldn't catch the moonlight, leaving streaks of brown and black. "I know we shared fun times in the human realm, but-"

"I-" She cut him off, only to then cut herself off. She sat back on her haunches and stared at her sword, which lay right next to her hand. "I just...couldn't do it. And when I saw the others going in to kill you, I...couldn't let that happen." A visible tremble ran through her. "Isn't that insane? I've wanted to see your dead body since I was a little girl. And yet…" A bitter, hoarse laugh escaped from her throat. "Here I am."

Satan let out a puff of smoke.

A familiar fire rekindled in her green eyes. "But don't think you're the only one who gets to accuse here. You didn't fight me. You _wouldn't_ fight me." She snarled, the words ripped from her lips.

"No, I wouldn't." He admitted. "I just...I…" He searched for the words. Then he realized he was speaking English, and so was she. "Is there a reason we've switched to human tongue?"

She blinked. "Oh." She stared out the window. Her eyes glittered, reflecting the stars, and all of the Devil's hearts jumped. "Well, it's better this way. I don't want them to understand us." She turned back to him, the fire still burning. "So? Why wouldn't you attack me?"

"Because…" His voice failed him. How could he tell her what he saw? How when she had burst through his doorway, with her helmet tucked under her arm and her hair gleaming, her eyes watery and wide….he remembered a picture of a red haired girl slipping down a rusty old staircase. How could he possibly tell her that he hesitated because he couldn't get the voice of a women at work answering the phone out of his head? How could he face a seasoned, half-Angel warrior, and tell her his hands trembled with the fear of hurting her? How?

She looked impatient. But then she perked, straightening.

He tried to listen, but a harsh buzzing was ringing in his ears and he groaned.

She was on top of him in an instant. She clamped her hand over his mouth again and pressed her lips against the side of his ear. He felt his blood well up into his face, but then she whispered. "I know you're in pain, but for now, _silence_."

He stilled. His eyes drifted shut, but it only made him all the more aware of what exactly it was that she had done. Her body pressed against his, her armor warm against his clothing. Her arm went around his back and touched the base of his wings, distracting him from the pain with slow twitches of her fingers. Her breath brushed against the side of his neck, which was still aching from where the sword had pressed against it. Her hair settled against his cheek, smelling just the same as it had when they were on Earth.

He found himself leaning towards her, wishing he could feel more of her, when suddenly she was torn away from him.

The hulking figure's eyes blazed with hatred and betrayal. He held the Hero by the back of her armor, then flung her across the room. "Traitor!" He snarled, not in English. He raised his Sacred Blade, the shadow falling over Satan's face. Weakly, The Dark Lord tried to lift his hand to defend against the blow-or at least knock away the attacker. But he found he could barely twitch his fingers as another wave of pain washed through him.

The sword was brought down, only to suddenly be meet by another.

"E-Emilia!" The man protested. "How dare you defend that monster!"

Emilia knelt, her sword held over her head and her two hands clasping the handle tightly. Her arms barely shook under the weight of the other man's sword. She didn't meet his eyes.

"You-You…" Desperation shook the man's voice. He looked at Satan with anger and...was he pleading him? "What have you done to her?"

The Devil couldn't answer, as another wave of pain made him clench his teeth with a groan.

The Holy Knight gasped as Emilia rose from her knee, then swung her sword to knock his away. "I cannot explain my actions tonight, Jerald. But I can promise you that they are my own." She spoke in the language of her home once more, her voice brittle.

Jerald backed away a few steps, shaking his head. "It cannot be...Not _you,_ Emilia. You were the last person…" His voice broke and his hands shook on his hilt. Slowly, he dropped his helmet's face guard. "Emilia the Hero," he announced gravely. "You're now an enemy to our ranks and sided with the Devil."

Emilia glanced up in a rush, her eyes wide.

"You have betrayed your own army to assist the Lord of Darkness."

"I-I-"

"As an enemy of the state, we are no longer under your command." Jerald's voice was brittle under the echo.

Emilia's lip quivered. "Jerald, please…" Then she seemed to steel herself. She glanced back at the Devil, something sad quenching the fire in those beautiful eyes.

Satan opened his mouth in shock. His eyebrows lifted and he tried to reach towards her, but then she turned away. She planted her sword into the ground and knelt. "I no longer deserve my rank." She spoke.

Jerald flinched like she had hit him.

"No longer should my troops serve under my liege." She continued.

"Emilia…" Satan tried, still speaking in English. He didn't like this-he didn't like her on her knees, defeated. Where was her fire?

"I humbly accept my fate as an enemy to the state and allow you to dispose of me as you wish." She nearly shouted the words, her eyes watering. But she blinked hard and the water was gone. Instead her green eyes hardened like stones as she awaited death by Jerald's hand.

Satan groaned as another wave of agony ravaged his body, but he looked up at Jerald. The knight was trembling so badly his armor was clinking. "Oi…" He tried. "You're not actually gonna-"

"Silence, demon!" Jerald yelled. He rushed forward, his sword raised, aiming for Satan himself, but Emilia stood. She flung her arms out, a gesture of protection.

Satan's eyes widened.

In a wild attempt to stop, Jerald pulled his sword downwards.

Emilia screamed as the Sacred Blade ripped through the armor on her arm and broke into her skin.

Both knights froze. Jerald, still trembling while his sword was embedded into the armor and skin of his treacherous leader. Emilia, trembling from pain and possibly shock as red splotches of blood began to drip from the wound. Yet she didn't move. Her legs held fast to the ground, braced and ready for another assault.

"Emilia…" The Devil forced himself to bend and sit up. He made it about halfway before blood sprouted from his mouth in a loud cough and he sank back to the ground. "No…" He crooned, wanting so badly to help. His body would not respond, however. No matter how hard he strained, he couldn't even feel his toes. Sacred Blade's were different than any mere swords. They amplified pain and injuries tenfold, one hit could easily permanently disable a human.

Emilia glanced back and gave him a small smile. "I'm fine." She said in English. Then she turned back to Jerald. "You must kill me anyways." In Esta Isla's native tongue. "Why do you hesitate so?"

Jerald made a whimpering noise. "Oh, Captain…."

Just then someone else flew through the window. Someone smaller, with a thinner Sacred Blade. She wore no helmet, and tears streamed from her eyes. "TRAITOR!" She screamed.

Emilia's eyes widened. "Evet-" She was cut off as the newcomers Blade pierced her through the side.

"Emilia!" Satan cried. He surged upwards, his wings flapping desperately to move himself. Pain washed over him, so agonizing and horrible tears pricked at his eyes-something that had very rarely happened to him as a demon. He fell to his knees, his cape still pulling at his throat. But he lifted his hands to catch Emilia as she began to fall backwards.

The young warrior was not done, however, it seemed. With a mad cry of rage, she pried her sword free of Emilia's body and slashed in a whirlwind of strikes.

By the time Emilia fell, her armor was in pieces, leaving her in a white gown. She was bleeding from multiple deep cuts, and Satan caught her in his arms. Her head lolled back against his chest, her breath coming in rapid pants as her body went into a sort of shock.

Satan couldn't breathe. He wasn't sure if his cloak was pulling too hard on his throat or the pain of seeing the Hero like this had stopped his air flow. His fingers trembled against her bruised and bloodied skin. "Emmi…." He croaked.

Emilia opened her eyes and smiled up at him. "I hate you." She whispered.

The Devil felt like something had pierced one of his hearts. Then he looked down and realized the smaller warrior had shoved her sword down through his left breast.

Tears leaked from her eyes. Her body shook with sobs and she wailed as she ripped the sword out of the Dark Lord's chest. Blood poured forth, and Satan pulled Emilia away from him to avoid the drizzle.

Emilia looked up at him worriedly. Very weakly, she reached her hand up towards the wound, but then the girl lashed out one final time. She struck the Dark Lord hard enough to send him and Emilia both flying off to the side.

The Devil felt Emilia's arm lie across his neck as he landed on his back. The pain was so harsh, he convulsed and blood slipped out from the side of his mouth. He closed his eyes, slipping into unconsciousness.

He didn't expect to wake up.

He didn't understand the feeling of something slipping down his throat.

The pain...the pain wasn't gone, but it had lessened considerably.

His eyes opened slowly. He saw an old roof, hardly able to keep standing. Outside the shattered windows, stars gleamed. He could faintly hear wailing-or yelling? It sounded jubilant, yet muted.

"My team believes they've won, at the price of losing me." Explained a faint voice next to him.

The Devil moved his tongue. Liquid still trickled down his tasted like...like blood?

It all came rushing back. A wrist was pressed against his mouth, pouring blood down through his mouth and into his throat, from there into his stomach.

He tried to close his mouth, but the arm pushed down and kept his lips open. "None of that. You're not healed yet." The voice sounded fierce, but it was so weak…

Satan grasped the arm, surprising himself with his strength. He shoved the arm out of his mouth and strained to sit up.

"You can't." Emilia said bitterly.

The Dark Lord twisted and sucked in a breath.

There, lie Emilia. Her armor was mixed in the rubble around her. Her hair was a dull halo around her head, her signature braid had come halfway undone. Her skin was pale, and she looked feverishly ill. She was lying with her legs partly underneath her in an ever growing puddle of blood. She gave him a small smile, however, her eyes narrowed with something that looked all too warm for someone who was dying.

"No. No no no." He breathed. He leaned towards her, reaching for her face. He flinched right before he made contact, however. "Emmi...you can't...you didn't…"

Emilia weakly reached up and pressed her hand against his lips. He could taste the blood on it. She was still trying to get him to drink her blood? "The blood of Angels…" She murmured, her eyes suddenly distant. "I'd heard rumors they could revive demons. I wasn't sure if it would work the same with a mere half Angel, and yet here you are."

"You…" He coughed as she took advantage of the small opening and tried to push more blood into his mouth. He knocked her hand away. "Stop it." He sputtered. "You don't have the blood to spare."

Her head turned slowly to look at the blood around her. "I'm dying anyways. You might as well drink it while it's ripe."

Satan shook his head. "No. I won't. Emmi, I can't….you can't…" His voice broke. He leaned down and wrapped his arms around her head, lifting her up from the blood. She grimaced in pain and another wave of his own agony ripped through him-more from just hurting her. He pulled his legs forward and sat criss cross, then leaned her head against his shoulder. He brushed his fingers through her dulled hair, his other hand taking one of hers. "Please." His voice was shaky and tears pricked at his eyes. "Please, don't leave me."

She made a slight scoffing sound. "You're supposed to hate me."

"I don't. I love you." He declared. He pressed his lips to her forehead, which was dangerously warm. "I love you now and I'll love you forever."

Her eyes watered over. She cursed. "I love you, too. And I hate myself for that." Tears slipped down her cheeks and he watched with horrified fascination. "You killed my father, you burned my village to the ground. You've hurt me so many times….and yet I love you. I want you to live. How absolutely horrible is that? You've hurt so many...letting you live would be enough to put me into he depths of hell."

He shook his head and pressed his forehead against hers desperately. His own tears slipped free and mingled with hers against her cheeks.

"But you know…" She took a shaky breath. "I'm happy right now. I like being here. I like being with...with you." She coughed and Satan had to hold her tighter to make sure she didn't roll out of his grasp.

"Then stay." He reached over and pressed his finger against her neck. "I might be able to heal you."

"Don't bother." She murmured. She seemed to lose herself for a moment, then she snapped back to focus on him. She reached up and ran her hands against the bottom of his jaw softly. "You should drink more. You still won't be able to get away like this."

He shook his head, his hair rubbing against her forehead. "I don't wanna leave. I want to stay here with you forever."

She chuckled and lifted her hands so they hovered over his lips. Then she ran her fingers around the outside of his mouth and across his chapped lips. "Mao…" She breathed.

More tears spilled from his eyes. "Emmi." He clenched his teeth to hold back the despair. Her fingers trembled and he had to grasp them, just wanting it to stop.

She took a deep breath and stared out the window. "Can you promise me something, Mao?"

"Anything. Anything anything anything." He agreed.

"Don't wreck havoc like you did before. Don't hurt my team down there." A shred of a spark went off in her eyes as she met his.

He nodded. "Anything for you."

The spark died. "Good." She breathed. Her hand slipped down from his cheek to the cloak around his neck. She frowned. "Isn't this choking you?"

"Yes." He dared not lie to her. Not now, never again.

"Then why do you still-"

"It protected my throat from being slit." He admitted. He pushed a little weight into his fingers, and therefore pushed down on her cheek. He was worried how she didn't respond to the touch.

"Doesn't mean you should...have to have it pulling on you like this." Her fingers slipped into the knot. Very weakly, she undid it and it slipped from his neck. The cloth rested on his shoulders instead. The constant pressure was gone from his neck and he took a deep breath. Then he shuddered, for the phantom feel of the sword was so…

She pressed her palm against his adam's apple. "There." She murmured. Her head drooped before he put his fingers underneath her chin and lifted it back up.

Her hand fell down. Mao grasped it before it fell against the ground. "Thank you, Mao. I appreciate you...not killing for me."

Mao wanted another sword to run through his hearts. It would probably hurt less. "Emmi...please, just stay." His voice broke.

"I can't." She murmured, nearly inaudible. "I have to...It's just too late."

"Emmi, please…" He reached up and brushed the back of his fingers down her cheek. "I need you."

"You don't." She scolded.

"I do." He insisted. He ran his fingers down the side of her face again and twirled a strand of her hair around his finger.

She gave him one last look-one that said _really_? Then her body twitched and she gasped with pain.

"Emmi. No no no no." He murmured. He pressed his hand around her cheek and then pulled her body closer to his with his other hand. "Emmi…"

Her head lolled against his chest. "I never thought I would die...in Satan's arms…" She murmured. "With his tears...his tears…." Her eyes became unfocused. "I love you, Mao?" Her tongue slipped, or maybe it was meant to be a question. She exhaled, and didn't inhale again.

Mao couldn't breathe. He didn't want to breathe. Slowly, robotically, he lowered the Hero down to the ground once more. He closed her eyes, his fingers shaking. He leaned over her body and wailed. He cried and wept and yelled, wishing he had been killed instead.

He looked to her wrist, although his tears made his vision blurry. The blood still seeped out of her body. It seemed unfair. He lifted her hand and brought it towards his face to kiss her knuckles ever so softly. Blood dripped onto the side of his mouth.

An idea snapped into his head.

Bringing back the dead...if he could do it to thousand year old corpses, why couldn't he do it to a still warm body?

But he'd need power.

He leaned over and brushed his lips against the Hero's cheek. "I'm sorry, Emi. I need to do this." He turned and pressed his lips against a small cut in the back of her wrist. He sucked, and was surprised at the amount of blood that rushed into his mouth. There must have been a popped artery in there.

The thought made him want to be sick with horror, but he steeled himself and continued to drink.

Power welled through him. The pain in his wings faded and slowly his legs began to regain feeling as well. Her blood didn't taste like anything special, but his body clearly thought otherwise.

He let go of her wrist with a small popping sound. He licked the blood off his teeth and looked back to Emmi. He prayed that his spell could give her back the blood she had lost. He took a moment to reveal at the irony of that. The Devil...was praying.

He sat back onto his haunches and spread his hands over Emmi's body. He began to chant. Ancient words that brought back the dead, a spell he had used countless times many years before. But now he changed the words. " _To her old self_." He murmured. Not some nameless corpse that could fight well. No, he wanted her fire back. He wanted her death threats, her rage, her everything. And, as the lord of the demons, he would get his way.

The wind stirred around them, ruffling their hair and sweeping at his cloak and wings. It didn't remove it from his shoulders, but it lifted the flaps so they brushed against his jaw.

Emi began to glow in a soft, yellow light.

The Devil took that as a good sign. His resurrection spells usually glowed purple. He restarted the verse after finishing it. After this time, just once more. Then...she would be back.

The thought was so relieving he nearly lost concentration. He forcefully continued onwards with his spell. He felt the heat in his eyes as they glowed.

An older part of his brain wondered why he was doing this. Emilia the Hero had stormed his castle tonight with her elite team, with the one intent to kill him. She'd snuck in, unnoticed until she entered Satan's room. Only then, had she shed the disguise of a mere servant demon and lunged for him. But then, just before her throat had pierced his throat, it hovered. The tip pressed against his throat, but stopped there.

For a moment, neither had moved. Satan wasn't planning to retaliate. He abhorred the idea of hurting her. In his instinctual reaction, he had wanted to rip her head off. But he stopped when he saw her eyes. They were rapidly losing the gold glow, and the green tints made his hearts just ache. He'd actually missed her, and was glad to see her again, even if it was to kill him.

He wondered if she was actually going to go through it, but just then one of his generals walked in.

The alarm was sounded. Emilia's team had to come out of hiding. They attacked Satan with the force of a thousand moons, and he was caught so off guard they gained the upper hand on him. Four vs one, he had no chance. His general was subdued and unable to stop them, and by the time the rest of his demon army would have come to his aid, the job would be finished.

He was pressed to the ground and saw Emilia, looking horrified as she watched her team hack away at one of his wings that he had lifted in a weak resort of defense. Then she was rushing forward, then they were flying….

Satan started the verse one last time.

Color was definitely returning to Emilia's face, and her wounds were healing. He couldn't do anything about the spilled blood, but hopefully his spell was helping her body create fresh cells to replace what had been lost.

He chanted through the last verse, and pulled his hands back down as the glow faded. He waited, staring intently at Emi's face.

A ray of light powered through the cracked window and Satan looked away from the sudden harsh light.

But then he heard Emilia groan.

"Emi." He breathed. He rushed forward, his cloak streamed out behind him and slipped free of his shoulders. He wrapped his arms around her thin form, making sure he didn't hit her with his horns.

Emi stirred slightly. "Mao…?" She breathed.

Mao backed his head up so he could see her face. Her green eyes were narrowed slightly as she looked up into his face. The new light of day shone into those eyes and reflected off them. Her hair was given a yellow halo, as if she was still being resurrected. She had never looked more beautiful. "You brought…" She trailed off.

Satan ran his hand down the side of her face to her throat. He felt for her pulse, and when he felt it, tears of relief and joy ran down his cheeks. "You're alive." He managed. He pushed his head down to the base of her throat.

"Just." She murmured. Her one hand went up and brushed through his disheveled hair. "But I was dead…" She sounded confused.

"Not anymore." Satan said fiercely. "And never again."

She scoffed and pulled her fingers through gently. "I'd like to stay with you."

"I want that as well." The Devil murmured.

"But…"

"But." He agreed. He lifted himself and looked around. "I want to leave you where your friends may find you."

"Don't leave me." She barely even spoke, the words were more like a mouthing. But her eyes were dull with pain.

Sao looked down at her and nodded. He put his hand against her cheek and she leaned into it. "I want to stay. I want more then the world to have you forever in my arms." His voice broke and he took a shaky breath. "But you are the Hero and I am the Devil."

"Jerald and Evetta attacked us last night, if I'm not mistaken?" She murmured. Her eyes watered, yet still she helped him scheme.

"I believe those were their names." He agreed.

"I don't know how I can convince them. I defended you-how can they ever trust me again?" She shook her head slowly. Her movements were slow. She was obviously sick, sweat glistened on her forehead and her body trembled with each slight, sluggish movement. She still needed medical attention.

"Tell them I had put you under a spell. Say you don't remember anything." Satan asked. He ran his fingers downwards to her throat, then crossed her shoulder to her hair. He picked at a piece of dried blood until it came free of her hair.

"But…"

"Please. I cannot think of anything else. I will let them believe I am dead. I will wait until you and your comrades leave my realm, then I will reclaim my throne. My subjects do not need to know details on my apparent demise." He finished his plan with another tear.

Emmi watched it roll down his cheek. "I won't see you again afterwards, will I?"

"You will be revered as the Hero who's killed the Devil in your world. In my world, you will have been vanquished to your own realm without a way to come back." He took a deep breath. "So...no, you won't."

Tears spilled down from her eyes. Feebly, she reached for the Devil.

He laced his fingers through one of her hands, then brought her to his chest. He stared at their intertwined hands. "I hate it more than I hate anything else in the world." He admitted. "Fate is horribly cruel. The Hero and the Devil are supposed to be mortal enemies, and yet we have brought each other back from the dead out of sheer love." He laughed, more tears falling down his face. "This is goodbye, my Hero."

Emi curled her figure into his chest. "Don't call me that. I'm not _your_ Hero." She took a shaky breath. "They might not take me back. They might leave me to die instead, if Jerald and Evetta have already spread the word."

"I know enough about humans that I know they won't leave you like this." Satan promised.

"Maybe. But what if your forces find me first?" She asked. Her voice was muffled into his chest.

"I'll order them to pretend they never saw you."

Emmi sighed. "Alright." She pushed against his chest and lifted her head towards his.

He hesitated. He wasn't sure if it would be worse or better to leave her with a kiss, but then his hearts won and he leaned downwards. He saw her eyes close as the distance closed, and closed his own.

It was a soft kiss. Their lips barely brushed against one another, but they held like that until Emilia fainted and fell back, unable to keep herself up.

The devil rested her head on his chest and looked at the dawn. With a sigh, he scooped the Hero into his arms and spread his wings.


End file.
